Mallory's Elegant Dinner Party
by Red Witch
Summary: Mallory throws a party to try and appease her neighbors.


**The disclaimer telling all of you that I don't own any Archer characters has gone to a party somewhere. This is more deranged insanity from my tiny little brain.**

 **Mallory's Elegant Dinner Party**

"Why the hell do I have to clean the damn toilets around here?" Pam snapped as she came out of the women's bathroom with a mop and bucket.

"You **know** why!" Cyril snapped. He was in the bullpen with Lana, Ray and Cheryl.

"YEAH!" Lana, Ray and Cheryl said at the same time.

"You have bigger bowel movements than all the rest of us combined!" Ray snapped. "Hell, yours are bigger than half of LA combined!"

"When the hell are we going to get a janitor again?" Pam asked.

"We had a janitor **before**?" Cheryl blinked.

"For a day," Lana sighed.

Cyril explained. "Between Archer's insults, Pam's upper deckers and God only knows what he saw in Krieger's lab he didn't even stay that long."

"It wasn't **that** disturbing," Krieger emerged from the men's bathroom with a mop and bucket.

"Krieger the man wrote his resignation letter in blood," Ray looked at him. "And nailed it to the door."

"It wasn't his blood," Krieger shrugged.

"Since we don't have this thing called money," Cyril said. "And since you two are the biggest culprits when it comes to messes involving bodily fluids, you two are on bathroom duty until further notice."

"Why do we have two bathrooms anyway?" Pam asked. "Since we all go into each one without any problem."

"That's mostly you Pam," Lana said.

"And again," Cyril said. "Your upper deckers make two bathrooms a necessity. Besides it's also a good punishment for you after the incident the other day."

"It wasn't just me!" Pam snapped.

"It was **your idea**!" Cyril snapped. "And because of that we got another huge fine for littering! And a very angry letter from a paper recycling group."

"You had another flyer throwing spree, didn't you?" Lana groaned.

"Hey you want to get the word out about the Figgis Agency, don't you?" Pam asked.

"Pam the word **is out** about the Figgis Agency," Cyril sighed. "And it's not a good one. That's the problem."

"You people have been nothing **but** a problem since Day One!" Mallory grumbled as she walked in.

"How is life treating you Ms. Archer?" Pam asked cheerfully.

"Like your digestive system treats that bearclaw!" Mallory snapped. "And the result is almost literally the same!"

"Geeze," Cheryl remarked as she took out some glue. "Somebody got up on the wrong side of the coffin this morning."

"My idiot neighbors decided to hit me with another citation!" Mallory snapped as she threw down a familiar pink flier and another paper on the table. "For littering. Thanks a lot Pam!"

"It wasn't just me," Pam spoke up. "Ray and Cheryl helped me too."

"Thanks a lot for snitching bitch!" Ray snapped.

"Seriously," Cheryl looked at her.

"Which one of you plastered Mrs. Kensington's house completely with fliers?" Mallory asked.

"Ray!" Cheryl and Pam pointed.

"Thanks a lot bitches!" Ray snapped.

Mallory paused and snickered. "Actually, **that one** was rather funny. I have to admit it was pretty amusing to see that stuck up bitch's house covered in pink fliers."

"You're welcome," Ray smirked.

"It's not like you were going to pay anyway," Cheryl waved.

"True," Mallory shrugged.

"What exactly did you do to piss them off so much?" Ray asked.

"Who remembers?" Mallory waved.

"Clearly your neighbors do," Pam remarked.

"Mallory," Lana sighed. "Maybe you should stop antagonizing your neighbors? Just a thought."

"I don't do **anything**!" Mallory snapped.

"Except be your cheerful, happy self," Ray added sarcastically.

"Is it my fault my neighborhood is full of dull witted gossiping bitches?" Mallory snapped. "Who wouldn't know a good time if it bit them in the ass?"

"So, you bit someone in the ass?" Cheryl blinked.

Mallory looked at Cheryl. "Carol. You might want to invest in a company that makes brain cells. It might help you restock that empty head."

"Ms. Archer your neighbors are really mad at you," Pam looked at the citation. "I mean I've read a few citations in my time, but none of them ever had a paragraph about burning someone in effigy."

"Ooh! Fire!" Cheryl perked up. "Do you want me to burn another rosebush again?"

Everyone looked at Mallory. "They had no proof I ordered that," Mallory sniffed. "They suspect it but they can't prove it."

"I don't even want to know," Lana groaned. "But Mallory maybe you should at least consider acting a little more…?"

"Human?" Ray remarked.

Lana paused. "Yeah that's the word."

"What do you want me to do Lana?" Mallory snapped. "Grovel at those losers' feet?"

"No, but you can start by not calling them losers," Lana said. "At least to their faces."

Mallory paused. "All right. I'll try that. What else?"

"Do something nice for your neighbors," Lana said. "Instead of well…"

"Being you," Ray remarked.

Krieger added. "Like chopping down your neighbor's tree when they go on vacation."

"That thing was an eyesore!" Mallory snapped. "I did the neighborhood a favor!"

Ray looked at the citation. "According to this citation, your neighborhood would love it if you did them a favor by moving."

"I have it," Mallory realized something. "I know how to win them over. I will host one of my famous dinner parties!"

This was met with several groans. "You mean one of your **infamous** dinner parties!" Cyril groaned.

"Oh goody," Ray quipped. "Maybe I'll get another package of severed body parts?"

"Or maybe there will be another fire?" Cheryl cheered.

"Noooooope!" Mallory snapped. "I don't want any of you idiots **near** this party! I do not want this turned into **another** Grand Tuntmore where someone dies!"

"It wasn't just there someone died," Lana groaned.

"Lana since you are the only one I remotely trust to not cause an arson spree," Mallory sighed. "You're coming."

"Phrasing," Ray quipped.

"What did I do?" Lana protested.

"For some reason Mrs. Goldberg actually **likes you**!" Mallory snapped.

"That's because I don't insult her," Lana said.

Cheryl added. "And I'm guessing it's also because AJ is black and she finds it hilarious that a racist old bat like Ms. Archer has a black granddaughter. Now that I think about it. It is funny! Ha!"

"I'm not racist! I'm elitist!" Mallory snapped. "I think all people who have money and prestige are equal no matter what their skin color!"

"Yeah…" Lana rolled her eyes. "But some are more equal than others."

"That goes without saying," Mallory sniffed. "Lana, I need you. Please…"

"All right," Lana sighed. "Since you said please. I'll call my babysitter."

"Wow," Ray looked at Ms. Archer. "You actually said **please?** I think Hell has just started selling ice skates."

"I am under a lot of stress okay?" Mallory snapped. "My business is failing. My marriage is strained. My son is in a coma! And he's really milking it which makes it rough on me!"

"Not that much of a picnic for me or AJ either," Lana glared at her.

"So AJ knows now?" Cyril asked.

"She knows her daddy is sick," Lana sighed. "I didn't go into the details."

"Actually, this works out fine for me," Mallory said. "Mrs. Goldman is more liberal than CNN. That way you can monopolize the conversation about the environment or human rights or all that other crap."

"Now who is Mrs. Goldman again?" Cyril asked.

"She's the head honcho of the neighborhood association," Pam explained. "It says so on this letter. Wow. She even got it notarized."

"Then you know it's serious," Krieger agreed.

"Look Lana all you have to do is talk to Mrs. Goldman and some of her liberal cronies," Mallory told her. "Make them happy by letting them complain how miserable the world is. And occasionally say nice things about me."

"Like what?" Lana asked.

"I'll give you a list," Mallory groaned.

"Ha, ha…" Cyril snickered. "Have fun Lana."

"Cyril you're coming too," Mallory said.

"WHAT?" Cyril shouted.

"Ha, ha!" Lana scoffed.

"What did I do?" Cyril snapped. "Why **me**?"

"Because you are a timid little bean counter," Mallory told him. "Like half the retired people in that neighborhood. You'd fit right in. Might even get a look at the Ghost of Christmas Future."

"You think he has a **future?** " Cheryl laughed.

"Besides I'm sure you can write off this party as some kind of tax expense," Mallory waved. "Do some networking."

"In other words, you want to pay for your party using agency funds," Cyril looked at her.

"You know me so well," Mallory replied.

"Do **you** know that we can't afford a fancy party with what little funds we do have?" Cyril snapped. "We can't even afford a damn janitor!"

"Relax Angst and Middle Aged!" Mallory snapped. "I only need five thousand measly dollars for which I will completely reimburse you."

"You **say** that," Cyril looked at her. "But history has taught me that the only debts you repay are the ones in blood."

"You still haven't paid me that seven dollars for that coffee I got you five years ago," Pam looked at her.

"First of all," Mallory fumed. "I only owe you three fifty. You chose to get your own cappuccino."

"Then why don't you **pay it?"** Pam asked.

"Shut up," Mallory snapped. "Secondly Cyril I have an idea that will make the agency twice as much money."

"Oh no…" Lana groaned. "What crazy scheme are you hatching in your brain now?"

"It's **not** a scheme!" Mallory snapped. "Look I just need the two of you to talk me up to the crowd. Say what a great businesswoman I am. How shrewd my investments are. What a good grandmother I am."

"In other words, lie," Cyril looked at her.

"It's not lying it's…" Mallory was frustrated. "Will you do it or not?"

"Things Cyril says to a hooker when she finds out he's short on cash," Ray quipped.

"You know?" Cyril snapped.

"Speaking of short on cash," Pam spoke up. "Where's my three fifty?"

"Are you going to front me the money?" Mallory asked.

"You haven't even paid the three fifty you owe Pam!" Cyril pointed.

"FINE!" Mallory dug into her purse. "Here! Here's five dollars! See! Paid with interest!"

"Not that much interest," Pam said as she took the money.

"Now will you do it or not?" Mallory snapped.

"When's the party?" Cyril sighed resigned to his fate.

"I think this Friday will be good," Mallory said.

"Today is Wednesday," Lana said.

"Please!" Mallory waved. "I once put together an entire impromptu USO show with only a half hour's notice. This will be nothing. I'll have the party catered. Pick up a few things."

"You mean some extra booze from around the office," Pam added.

"It's not like we don't have a surplus!" Mallory snapped. "Trust me. A couple of bottles and a few extra crackers from around here is all I need for that crowd. And speaking of which the rest of you aren't invited! So, **stay away!"**

"I guess I'd better call my sitter," Lana sighed as she got up.

"I guess I'd better go to the bank," Cyril sighed.

"And I am going to go hire some caterers," Mallory got up.

"What makes you think you can get caterers on such short notice?" Cyril asked.

"Cyril this is Los Angeles," Mallory sighed. "I'm sure there are some starving actors or Mexicans dying for extra work and some food to take home."

"See right **there,"** Lana pointed out. "You might want to cut down saying things like **that.** "

"Oh my God," Mallory rolled her eyes. "In the first place I said actors as well as Mexicans. Secondly, it's implied that Mexicans are always looking for work because they aren't slackers. If anything, that's a compliment."

"Not really," Cyril said as the three of them left.

"Oh, this is going to be a fun party," Cheryl giggled.

Ray looked at Cheryl. "You're already planning on crashing this party, aren't you?"

"Oh yeah," Cheryl giggled.

"What the hell?" Ray shrugged. "I'm in."

"Me too," Pam grinned.

"Oh yeah," Krieger grinned. "I can always cultivate those mold spores pretty much anytime."

"How about never?" Ray asked.

Friday soon arrived at the home of Mallory Archer and Ron. Mallory and Ron were putting together the last-minute details.

"I don't know how you talked me into this," Ron grumbled as he fidgeted with his tie. He wore a nice grey suit with a blue shirt.

"Ron, you said yourself that I had to do something to appease the neighbors," Mallory glared at him. She was wearing a blue dress with pearls. "I'm doing something!"

"Yeah but what exactly?" Ron asked. "Because we both know you don't really care what our neighbors think. If you didn't you would have never cut down Mrs. Kensington's tree."

"I did her a favor!" Mallory snapped. "That thing had rot root written all over it! Is Lana here yet?"

"She just walked in while you were in the bathroom," Ron said.

"I'm here," Lana said fixing her short black dress.

 **"That's** the outfit you chose?" Mallory groaned. "Do you have nothing that covers your knees?"

"What's wrong with it?" Lana asked.

"It's fine Lana," Ron said. "Very nice."

"Of course, **you** would say that," Mallory glared at him. "But I suppose it will have to do. Is Cyril with you?"

"No, he's coming later," Lana sighed. "By the way I want to ask about the caterers."

"Relax Lana, they're Italian," Mallory snapped. "Since you have such a problem with Mexicans."

"I don't…" Lana gasped. "Hang on. They're not mobsters or hitmen, are they?"

"NO!" Mallory snapped. "Now who's racist?"

"I'm saying that because you have hired hitmen before as caterers!" Lana snapped.

"They're not hitmen!" Mallory snapped. "They're a legitimate catering company! God! Not all Italians are connected to the Mob Lana! Get your head out of your racist ass!"

"Relax Lana I set up the caterers," Ron said. "They're an actual catering company a friend of mine recommended."

"What friend?" Mallory snapped.

"Are you talking about Mike Belduchi?" Lana asked. "The chef?"

"Yeah him," Ron nodded.

"How'd his brother's gall bladder surgery go?" Lana asked.

"Quite well actually," Ron nodded.

"How do you know **that**?" Mallory was stunned as she looked at Lana.

"It's this new thing called **listening** to people," Lana gave her a look. "You should try it sometime."

"Don't hold your breath on that," Ron groaned. "Oh, by the way I set up Jenna and AJ in the bedroom."

"Who's Jenna?" Mallory did a double take.

"Hey Ron," A young teenage girl with straight red hair in a bob wearing at green T-shirt, jeans and sneakers walked up with AJ in her arms. "We're gonna need some snacks pretty soon."

"Who's **she?** " Mallory pointed to the teenager.

"My babysitter," Lana sighed. "She's watching AJ. Jenna this is the woman I told you about."

"Hey," Jenna said casually.

"Hey is for horses and asses," Mallory snapped. "Lana…"

"Look I needed a break in paying her okay?" Lana snapped. "She'll be with AJ in the bedroom and she said she'd take home the extra food in payment for cash…"

"A doggie bag would be great," Jenna said.

"I can set it up for you," Ron said. "In fact, you can take some stuff now. There's plenty from the buffet."

"Cool," Jenna left with AJ.

"I didn't want a buffet!" Mallory snapped.

"Well I didn't want a party," Ron snapped. "So now we both don't get what we want!"

"Speaking of wanting things," Lana remarked. "What's your real reason for this party, Mallory?"

"Well it ain't to play nice that's for damn sure," Ron grumbled. "There's no other parties going at the same time are there?"

"Why do you ask that?" Mallory asked.

"Because he knows **you,** " Lana gave her a look. "But you're right Ron. There is something more than petty jealousy going on here."

"This has **nothing** to do with jealousy!" Mallory snapped. "Or hidden agendas! This is about mending fences! And I didn't want to do it with a buffet!"

"A buffet was the only practical option," Ron snapped. "What did you expect a full twelve course meal? You invited the entire neighborhood! That's just not practical! For so many reasons!"

"This is not about practicality," Mallory snapped. "You can't think about being practical."

"Well **someone** around here has to," Ron snapped. "Since you took ten grand from our account to host this wing ding."

"She took five from Cyril," Lana said.

"Oh, then she's **definitely** up to something," Ron agreed. "Because the caterers only cost five grand."

"I also bought the alcohol and a few little things," Mallory snapped.

"Didn't you take most of the alcohol from work?" Lana asked.

"Not as much as you'd think," Mallory sighed. "Look I want this party to go well okay? I bought a few extras."

"Is that dress new?" Lana asked.

"There's an extra," Ron quipped.

"Well not all of us can go through life wearing a mini-skirt!" Mallory snapped.

The doorbell rang. "I will get that," Mallory said. "Now remember, this night I want you all to be on your best behavior. This night is about grace, and dignity and class. And acting like the cream of high society."

She answered the door. Cyril and the rest of the Figgis Agency was there all dressed up. "HELLO!" Everyone said.

Mallory responded by slamming the door in their faces. "Mallory!" Lana went to get the door.

"Lana **no**!" Mallory tried to stop her. "Once you invite them **in,** you can't get them **out**! Like vampires!"

"Mallory," Lana gave her a look and brushed past her to open the door.

"Lana they're bloodsucking leeches that will suck the life out of this party!" Mallory warned.

"Isn't that **your job?"** Ron quipped.

"You know…?" Mallory glared at him.

"Come in guys," Lana sighed as she opened the door.

"Phrasing boom!" Cheryl cheered. She was in a red ballgown with a white fur coat and diamond earrings.

"I told you idiots you weren't invited!" Mallory snapped.

"You invited Cyril," Ray pointed. He was dressed in a black suit. "And he needed a date."

"So, he picked Neck Bone over here," Pam added. She was wearing a very curvaceous white dress and hairstyle that was exactly like the one she wore to Edie's Wedding. "And she wanted to take me. And I wanted to take Ray."

"And I thought I'd take Krieger," Ray added. Pointing to Krieger's red jacket and black pants.

"Cyril!" Mallory shouted.

"Oh, like they weren't going to come anyway!" Cyril snapped as he walked in with the others. He was dressed in a nice brown suit and sweater vest.

"Phrasing boom!" Cheryl cheered.

"A herd of idiots," Mallory groaned. "I have a herd of idiots that follow me wherever I go."

"Actually," Krieger spoke up. "I believe the correct term is an assortment of idiots."

"I always thought it was an assembly of idiots," Cyril asked.

"I always thought it was called Congress," Cheryl added. "Or the Senate. Depending on which was in session."

"JUST SHUT UP!" Mallory groaned. "Great! Just great! I try to set up an evening of wit and sophistication. And what do I get? Crass witless idiots."

"An assortment of…" Krieger spoke up.

"Just shut up!" Mallory snapped. "All of you just **shut up!** God, you people are like a cancerous growth! Infecting me with your idiocy!"

"That reminds me. How's Mike's brother doing?" Cyril asked.

"Did he get our get-well card?" Pam asked.

"He did," Ron nodded. "He's doing better."

"How the hell does **everybody** know about this Mike guy?" Mallory snapped.

"You really need to learn how to listen to people," Ray said before he moved away.

"Well you listen to me…" Mallory bristled. "I'm too upset to even insult you! But trust me, once I've calmed down I will hit you with a really bad homophobic slur!"

"I will await with baited breath," Ray said dryly.

"You…Sailors…AGGGH!" Mallory screamed in frustration. "I can't insult you now! Just listen up all of you! I want you idiots on your best behavior! GOT IT?"

"We get it," Pam rolled her eyes. "We know how to behave at a party."

" _Do you_?" Cyril asked.

"Well I've seen it on TV," Pam admitted.

"And another thing," Mallory glared at the others. "I don't want you low lifes mingling with the rest of my guests!"

"Well what are we supposed to do?" Pam asked.

"I don't care!" Mallory snapped. "Just stay out of sight and don't mingle! GOT IT?"

An hour and a half later…

The party such as it was, well hadn't even started yet. It was just the Figgis Agency, Ron and some caterers standing around a huge buffet line.

"Well Ms. Archer," Ray said dryly. "We're not mingling. Happy?"

"Where the hell is everyone?" Mallory snapped. "I told them the party would start at seven. It's now almost 8:30!"

"Can we eat now?" Pam asked as she stuffed her mouth full of some appetizers.

 **"Now?"** Mallory snapped. "You've been eating those pigs in a blanket like a pig since you got here!"

"Are you sure they got the invitations?" Ron asked as he started to eat an appetizer.

"I personally hand delivered them to every mailbox on the block!" Mallory snapped. "And stuffed several more in other people's hands! I'm sure!"

"Don't yell at me," Ron snapped. "This wasn't my idea!"

"Will you stop stuffing your face?" Mallory groaned.

"I paid for this buffet!" Ron snapped. "I get to eat!" And he did so.

"I thought I paid for it," Cyril asked.

"Then you get to eat too," Ron said.

"Finally," Ray said as the gang started to eat at the buffet. "I am starving!"

"Don't eat all the food!" Mallory snapped. "Those are for the guests!"

" **What** guests?" Ron snapped as he ate a calzone. "It's just us!"

Jenna walked in and grabbed a calzone and walked out. "And the babysitter," Ron added. "This calzone is great!"

"Don't get sauce on your suit!" Mallory snapped.

"I don't always do that," Ron told her.

"Just don't eat everything!" Mallory snapped. "I need you to save food for the guests!"

"We are the guests!" Cyril told her.

"The **real** guests!" Mallory shouted. "RON!"

"What?" Ron asked. He had a big marinara stain on his shirt. "Oh…Oh well." He kept eating.

"Great! My husband looks like an Italian greaseball!" Mallory snapped. "Should have known better. Hire Italians, make a mess!"

"Some of us are Albanians!" A caterer spoke up.

"Same difference!" Mallory snapped. "Mess making morons who's only redeeming feature is that you can cook! And even then, sometimes you don't do the pasta sauce right!"

Just then the front door rang. "Finally!" Mallory groaned. "Now you idiots behave yourselves or else I'll burn you all to the ground! After shooting you!"

"Tease!" Cheryl scoffed.

"AND GET AWAY FROM THE FOOD YOU ANIMALS!" Mallory shouted. Then she went to the door a picture of grace.

She opened it to show three people. Two older women and a man. "Mrs. Kensington, Mr. Kensington. Mrs. Winterberry," Mallory turned on the charm. "How lovely for you to arrive fashionably late."

"Told you she'd notice," Mr. Kensington, a grey haired old man in a brown suit whispered to his wife.

Mallory ignored this. "Where are the other guests? I'm sure they…"

"No one else is coming," Mrs. Kensington gave her a look. "The only reason we're here is to represent the neighborhood association. Everyone else is staying at Mrs. Goldberg's party."

"I KNEW IT!" Ron threw up his hands. "I **knew** there was another party going on somewhere!"

Mallory glared at her husband. Then she ushered her guests in. "Well it's just as well…" Mallory sighed. "More food for Pam to stuff down her gullet."

"Hey there!" Pam called out, her mouth full.

Mrs. Kensington, a brown-haired woman in a cream dress glared at her. "Aren't you the woman I caught reliving herself in my flower bed?"

"Only 'cause Ms. Archer paid me to…" Pam began.

"Have another barrel full of pigs in a blanket!" Mallory interrupted. "Let's get you all some drinks."

"Non-alcoholic for me," Mrs. Winterberry, a thin woman with tall white hair and a light blue dress sniffed.

"Of course," Mallory stiffened. "I'm sure there's something nonalcoholic here."

"This punch doesn't have much alcohol," Krieger spoke up. "Just some scotch and gin."

"That's alcohol!" Mrs. Kensington snapped.

"I'm sure the caterers have something. Caterers…" Mallory looked around. "Where the hell are those lazy…? Ron, I can't find the caterers."

"Then you shouldn't have insulted them," Ron told her. "They're in the back on strike."

"WHAT?" Mallory shouted.

"I'll talk to 'em!" Pam said as she grabbed a bottle of scotch. "I'm great at negotiations! I used to be in HR."

"You wouldn't know it from the lousy health plans you negotiated!" Ray snapped.

"Aw quit your bellyaching Gay Poupon," Pam snorted as she took a tray of mini quiches with her. "You got a robot hand for practically free right?"

"It doesn't match his skin tone," Cyril said.

"I had a surplus of black hands and no white ones left okay?" Krieger snapped. "Besides black is in this year."

Krieger turned to the elderly guests. "By the way if any of you need any spare parts, I have an abundance of robot hips, legs and other extremities for a very modest fee…"

"NO!" Mallory shouted. "Krieger…. Just **don't talk** for the rest of the evening!"

"Pam," Lana called out. "Make sure Jenna has a quiche too."

"Right gotta keep the babysitter happy," Pam chuckled as she left the room.

"Babysitter…?" Mrs. Winterberry blinked. She then looked at Lana. "Oh right. You must be Lana. You're the one that had the child out of wedlock with Ms. Archer's son."

"Like she was the only one," Cheryl scoffed.

"Carol!" Mallory shouted.

"She's the only one who did it on purpose," Cheryl went on.

"Carol shut up!" Mallory snapped. "Cyril! Do something!"

"Okay," Cyril thought for a moment. "Archer also had a baby with an escort to whom he currently owes a lot of child support."

"CYRIL!" Mallory shouted.

"Sorry," Cyril apologized. "An **Irish** escort. Happy?"

"You don't want to know what will **make me** happy right about now," Mallory growled at him.

"What? He said escort!" Cheryl said. "Not hooker! Even though it's practically the same thing."

"I believe there's several thousand dollars difference," Ray pointed out. "And she had a SEP plan."

"Oh God…" Lana groaned.

"You…." Mallory growled. She looked at the horrified expressions of the neighborhood association. "That's my staff. Never stops joking around. Let's just eat now, shall we? And fill your mouths so **you can't talk!"**

"Dude," Ray whispered in Cyril's ear. "I can't believe you **said that!"**

"It just came to me," Cyril snickered back. "I know I'm going to pay for it later but oh that was fun."

"God, I am so glad I came here," Ray snickered back.

"God, I wish I didn't come here," Mrs. Kensington groaned to her husband. "Why did I let myself get talked into this?"

"It's just for a few hours," Mr. Kensington told his wife. Then he spoke to Ron. "Ron how's Mike's brother doing? How did his surgery go?"

"WHAT IS THIS? A CONSPIRACY?" Mallory shouted. "How does everybody know about Mike's brother except me? You have to be all in on it!"

"You really need to learn to listen to people, don't you?" Cheryl laughed.

Meanwhile Lana cornered Cyril. "Cyril this night is going to be hard enough without you getting in on it!" Lana warned. "I know you hate Archer but really…?"

"Really Lana?" Cyril snapped. "You don't smell anything fishy about this party?"

"I think it's the crab puffs," Ray wandered by.

"I'm not talking about the crab puffs," Cyril snapped. "I'm telling you, Mallory is up to something."

"Of course, she's up to something!" Lana groaned. "It's Mallory! But I think it was just to upstage Mrs. Goldberg."

"No there's something else," Cyril snapped. "I can feel it. I now have a sixth sense when that woman is trying to screw me."

"Phrasing," Ray quipped.

"I don't care if they are greaseballs," Cheryl said as she chomped on some food. "This food is great. You really shouldn't have insulted them Mrs. Archer."

"And you really should take some medication!" Mallory snapped.

"Relax," Cheryl waved as she sat down on a table next to Mrs. Kensington. "I sniffed a whole bunch of glue, munched on some groovy bears and took some kind of pink pill so I'm good."

"Lovely," Mrs. Kensington blanched.

"The food at this party is just as good as the time you hired those German assassins," Cheryl spoke up as she cut into some chicken with a knife and fork. "And then we had to burn the bodies."

"WHAT?" Mrs. Winterberry and Mrs. Kensington shouted.

"Oh God!" Cyril shouted. "You didn't hire assassins this time, did you?"

"Nobody hired assassins!" Mallory shouted.

"Yeah you did," Cheryl pointed out.

"Not this time," Ron spoke up. "I hired the caterers."

"So, they're not going to try and kill us?" Cheryl asked.

"Well maybe not **all** of us," Cyril quipped.

"No one killed anyone or **is going** to kill anyone!" Mallory snapped. "Just ignore Carol. She's just having one of her delusions."

"No, I haven't seen an ostrich in a while," Cheryl shrugged. "So, I'm good!"

Mr. Kensington had sat down at the table when he was aware of being watched. He turned and saw Krieger staring at him. "Hello!" Krieger said cheerfully.

"H-Hello…" Mr. Kensington gulped and he moved away to where Ray and Cyril were siting. "Is it just me or does that man have a…strange vibe to him?"

"Yeah, we know," Cyril waved. "You get used to it."

"Especially when you're the one getting operated on by him," Ray groaned.

Then Mr. Kensington noticed Ray's gloved hand. "Why do you have a glove on one hand?" He asked.

"Didn't you hear Krieger?" Cheryl had heard this. "He only gave Ray a black hand."

"I was more upset that it was a robot hand other than it didn't match," Ray removed it and showed Mr. Kensington.

"Oh my…" Mr. Kensington blanched.

"Yeah that's why I wear a glove," Ray told him. Mr. Kensington moved away.

Mrs. Winterberry winced at the exchange. "Interesting people you surround yourself with Ms. Archer."

"You should have seen all those guys she used to have sex with," Cheryl said cheerfully.

"CAROL!" Mallory snapped.

"I'm going to go check on my daughter," Lana wisely decided to leave the room.

"I'm going to go out back and have a smoke," Ron got up. "Brett do you want to join me?"

"Oh yes," Mr. Kensington got up. "Definitely!"

"Your name is **Brett?** " Cheryl gasped. "Oh my God! Oh my God! That's the same name as the guy who was always getting shot in our old office!"

"Carol…" Cheryl warned.

"Listen there was this guy," Cheryl said excitedly. "Named Brett and he was **always** getting shot. Usually by Mr. Archer. One time by Cyril and a few times by other people. But he was always getting shot. Like every other week. Ended up a cripple before he got killed by those storm ninjas!"

"Carol!" Mallory snapped. "That was a movie you saw!"

"No, it wasn't!" Cheryl snapped. "I distinctly remember trying to recreate Brett's bloodstains…"

"Carol, you clearly need to change your medication!" Mallory interrupted. "Or get on some. Whatever. It never happened. She makes things up. It's because of the drugs. She doesn't know what she's saying half the time."

"Yes, I do," Cheryl said as Ron and Brett quickly left the room.

"That's debatable," Cyril groaned.

"I remember stuff," Cheryl said. "Like the time we went to outer space and I became Queen of Mars!"

"See what I mean?" Mallory pointed out to the older woman. "She's delusional."

"Remember the time we lived on a bus for like a whole week?" Cheryl spoke up. "After we got kicked out of our old jobs and New York."

"That's our Carol," Mallory went on. "Remembering things that **never happened**."

"I remember my name is Cheryl, you old bat," Cheryl snapped. "I also remember parts of the time you tried to run a cocaine cartel and Pam kept eating all the cocaine and she got really skinny…"

"Dear perhaps you should…" Mrs. Kensington coughed.

"HEY!" Cheryl waved her knife at Mrs. Kensington. "Don't interrupt me bitch!"

"Oh God!" Ray gasped. He ran over with Krieger to take the knife away. "Cheryl! Drop the knife! Drop the knife!"

"Mine! MY KNIFE!" Cheryl fought back.

"This is just like the time she tried to stab Brett with the scissors," Cyril groaned.

"WHAT?" Mrs. Kensington gasped.

Ray and Krieger had removed the knife and moved Cheryl to a corner. "Now sit down!" Ray snapped as he shoved her in a chair. "You **stay** in that chair Missy! And if you don't behave yourself I **won't** hit you! Got it? If you keep acting up you **won't get hit!** I **won't** lay a hand on you!"

"I'll be good," Cheryl said meekly.

"Wait did he just say he **wouldn't** hit her?" Mrs. Winterberry was scandalized.

"She's a masochist," Cyril explained.

"I can't take any more of this," Mrs. Kensington got up.

"Please sit down, Mrs. Kensington," Mallory pleaded. "Carol's really harmless."

"IT'S CHERYL!" Cheryl snapped.

"QUIET GAME!" Ray snapped.

Cheryl stuck out her tongue. "What are you going to do? Have Krieger inject another sticker into my head?"

"Keep this up Missy and you won't **have** a head!" Mallory shouted.

"I think I've heard enough," Mrs. Winterberry sighed.

"No, wait please! Don't go!" Mallory said. "This is just a misunderstanding."

"That woman waved a knife in my face!" Mrs. Kensington snapped.

"That's how she shows affection," Mallory sighed. "Please just stay! I promise! The evening will get better!"

"It can't get much worse," Mrs. Kensington sniffed.

"Wanna bet?" Cyril scoffed as he took a drink.

"Cyril! Quiet game!" Mallory snapped.

" **All** of you be quiet!" Lana poked her head out. "AJ is trying to sleep and you keep waking her up with your yelling!"

"Sorry Lana," Mallory apologized. She stood before the women trying to leave. "Look I understand that my staff is…"

"Technically **my staff,"** Cyril spoke up.

Mallory glared at him before continuing. "A bit eccentric but they are very good at what they do."

"And what exactly do they do again?" Mrs. Winterberry gave her a look.

"I've been wondering that myself," Pam chuckled as she walked in.

"Oh my God Pam!" Cheryl shouted. "Pam! You will **never** guess what this old lady's husband's name is! It's Brett!"

"No shit!" Pam whooped. "Like our Brett? The one who was always getting shot?"

"Exactly!" Cheryl nodded excitedly.

"Hot damn," Pam whooped. "Small world."

"What is that **smell** …?" Mrs. Winterberry winced. "It's coming from…Is it coming from the **bathroom?"**

"Pam!" Mallory snapped.

"Sorry!" Pam apologized. "Jesus! I had to go okay? At least it wasn't an upper decker!"

"A **what?** " Mrs. Kensington gasped.

"Don't ask," Cyril sighed.

"Well the good news is that the caterers are staying," Pam said. "The bad news is that I just lost fifty bucks in the craps game they set up out back."

"WHAT?" Mallory shouted.

"Well this party is going **exactly** the way I thought it would," Mrs. Kensington sighed. "I think I'll just collect my husband and go."

"Oh, he and Ron are playing craps with the caterers," Pam said as she grabbed more food. "Damn this shit is good!"

"Normally I would be upset at my husband smoking and gambling," Mrs. Kensington bristled. "But considering the circumstances **inside** …"

"You can't blame him for ducking out in order to get away from this freak show," Cheryl added. "Yeah we saw where you were going with that."

"You're going to go to a **mental institution** under an assumed name if you keep this up!" Mallory snapped.

"Like **that** hasn't happened to me before," Cheryl scoffed. "It's not as bad as it sounds."

"I have more than heard enough!" Mrs. Winterberry snapped. "Ms. Archer I think it's safe to say that your idea of anyone investing in your business is laughable at best!"

"Hang on," Cyril spoke up. _**"What?"**_

"Eh…" Mallory paused.

"And in addition," Mrs. Winterberry added. "This…gathering has only furthered our association's convictions about your lack of propriety and respect for the rules of our…"

"Who cares about what a bitch Ms. Archer is?" Cyril interrupted. "Go back to that investing thing. **What** investing thing?"

"Ms. Archer's invitation promised us a lucrative opportunity," Mrs. Kensington sniffed. "If we bought shares of her company."

 **"Her** company?" Cyril's voice went higher.

"Obviously that was a lie," Mrs. Winterberry sniffed.

"Damn right it was!" Cyril snapped. "I **KNEW** IT!"

"What is going on out here?" Lana asked as she walked in.

"You're trying to sell shares of my agency from under me?" Cyril shouted at Mallory.

"What?" Lana asked. "Mallory what did you do **now?"**

"I didn't do anything," Mallory protested.

"Not for lack of trying," Cyril snapped.

"Ms. Archer was trying to sell shares of the Figgis Agency from under Cyril," Ray explained.

"I **knew** I smelled something fishy!" Cyril snapped. "And I don't mean the crab puffs!"

"They do smell kind of rank, don't they?" Ray asked.

"Do we even **have** shares?" Cheryl asked. "It could just be an outright scam."

"That does sound a lot like Ms. Archer," Krieger nodded.

"Oh yeah," Ray nodded.

"I have heard **enough**!" Mrs. Kensington snapped. "Helen, we have **more** than enough to report back to the association."

"Oh, I get it," Pam spoke up. "You guys were sent over here by Mrs. Goldberg to spy on Mrs. Archer and to dish everything she did. Pretty smart of Mrs. Goldberg."

"I'll say!" Mrs. Winterberry snapped. "She didn't come over here!"

"Why you lying two faced…" Mallory fumed.

"You really want to **go there** about lying Ms. Archer?" Mrs. Kensington snapped. "Like you lied about my tree?"

"The damn thing was infested with root rot!" Mallory shouted.

"No, it wasn't," Krieger blinked. "That wood was perfect for…"

"KRIEGER SHUT UP!" Mallory shouted. "He's crazy too. Can't trust a word he says."

"I'd trust Bernie Madoff's words over **yours!** " Mrs. Winterberry snapped.

"Not about financial advice obviously," Cyril added. "But anything else, yeah. I see where you're going there."

"Mama…" AJ toddled in wearing pajamas and holding her Mr. Moovey doll.

"Oh AJ did we wake you?" Lana sighed as she picked her up.

"Where's the **babysitter**?" Mallory asked.

"She's out back cleaning up at the craps game," Ron groaned as he and Mr. Kensington walked in. "She already won a couple hundred from me and Brett!"

"Your babysitter is making more money than I am!" Cyril snapped at Lana.

"In one night," Mallory was impressed. "Damn it. Maybe I should offer her a job?"

"Brett! We're leaving now!" Mrs. Kensington ordered her husband.

"Hang on," Mr. Kensington looked pale. "I don't feel so well."

"I told you not to try that weird meat," Ron said. "It didn't look right."

"What meat?" Lana asked.

"There's this platter of meats Mallory has in the refrigerator," Ron told her. "She was planning on serving it later. Some of it looks Mexican."

"Mexican?" Cyril gasped. "Oh, dear God!"

"Ron tell me you didn't have any of that!" Lana gasped.

"Why wouldn't he?" Mallory asked.

"Did you?" Pam gasped.

"No, why?" Ron asked.

"I need to see that meat platter!" Lana barked.

"I think you're hanging around Pam too much," Mallory said.

"Mallory show me the damn meat platter!" Lana shouted.

"Why do you need to see the meat platter?" Mrs. Kensington asked.

"I'll get it," Ron said.

"You don't think…?" Ray realized.

"Oh God!" Cyril groaned.

"What is going on?" Mallory snapped. "What are you idiots blabbing about now?"

"Mallory…" Lana paused. "Where **exactly** did you get the meats?"

"From the refrigerator in the break room," Mallory said. "Hang on…"

"Oh god no!" Ray groaned.

"Great!" Pam groaned. "Krieger's crazy Mexican clone's meat poisoned another guy!"

"WHAT?" Mallory, Mrs. Kensington and Mrs. Winterberry shouted.

"I really don't feel well…" Mr. Kensington moaned as he sat down.

"Call 911!" Lana ordered.

"Our Brett was also poisoned a couple times now that I think about it," Cheryl mused.

"WHAT?" Mrs. Kensington screamed.

"Hey guys!" Jenna burst in. "You'd better call the hospital. Some of the caterers are sick. I think it's from the crab puffs. Or that weird Mexican sausage in the refrigerator."

"Oh God…" Cyril groaned.

"Jenna, take AJ into the next room," Lana handed AJ to her. "You didn't eat any weird sausage, did you?"

"No, I stuck with the quiches and calzones," Jenna said as she took AJ. "Come on kiddo…" She left the room.

"I really don't feel well…" Mr. Kensington whined.

"Oh my God!" Mrs. Kensington rushed to her husband's side.

"Calling!" Ray took out his cell phone.

"You were planning on **poisoning us?"** Mrs. Winterberry screamed.

"NO!" Mallory shouted.

"It does sound like something you'd do," Cheryl said.

"SHUT UP!" Mallory screamed.

"Out of my way!" Krieger shoved Mrs. Kensington aside. "I'm a doctor!"

"No, you're **not!** " Pam shouted.

"What?" Mrs. Kensington shouted.

"He needs to purge!" Krieger shoved his fingers down Mr. Kensington's throat.

"Urrkrkrkkk!" Mr. Kensington choked.

"I think he needs to **breathe!** " Pam snapped.

"What the hell is this about Mexican sausage?" Mallory shouted.

"We came up with this scheme a while ago to smuggle some meats into the country," Lana admitted. "We did it for a while but it kind of fizzled out."

"Oh, so **you** were in on this?" Mallory shouted.

"I needed the money!" Lana snapped. "And new boots!"

"What are you doing?" Mrs. Kensington pulled Krieger away.

"Trying to get him to vomit!" Krieger snapped. "Hang on…" He went looking for something in his pockets.

"The ambulance is on it's way," Ray reported.

"Got it!" Krieger pulled out his phone and tapped it. "Mr. Kensington! Look at these!" He showed him some pictures.

Then Mr. Kensington started to vomit onto the floor. "NOT ON MY BRAND-NEW CARPET!" Mallory screamed.

"What did you do to my husband?" Mrs. Kensington snapped.

"Uh this new thing called saving his life?" Krieger mocked. "By showing him **this!"** He showed her his phone.

Then Mrs. Kensington went green. "That's…" She then vomited on the floor.

"MY CARPET!" Mallory screamed

 **"Your** carpet?" Ron shouted.

"Krieger!" Lana gasped. "What did you show them?"

"Just some pictures from one of Ray's surgeries," Krieger said.

"Yeah that would do it," Ray admitted.

"My carpet is ruined!" Mallory shouted. "It almost smells as bad as Pam's bowel movements!"

"Boy did I call it or what?" Cyril snapped.

Cheryl was confused. "About this night getting worse or Ms. Archer trying to pull one over you?"

"Both! Either!" Cyril snapped. "I **knew** that bitch was trying to screw me!"

"Kind of a moot point now Cyril," Lana sighed as the sound of ambulances was heard. "I told you that meat scam was going to backfire on all of us!"

"Oh, you were in on this **too?** " Mallory shouted. "Now who's lying and trying to screw **me** over?"

"I had to!" Cyril snapped. "Or else you would have stolen it like you steal everything else!"

"I am out of here!" Mrs. Winterberry screamed as she ran for the door.

"She kind of has the right idea," Ray admitted.

"All those in favor in sneaking over to Mrs. Goldberg's party?" Pam suggested.

"I'm in!" Ron said.

"Guys come back here!" Lana protested as Ron, Pam, Ray, Cheryl and Cyril ran for the door.

"Oh no!" Cyril snapped. "You want to stay here and explain to the cops you can! I'm out of here! Krieger come on!"

"But I have other patients!" Krieger said.

"No, you **don't!** " Ray ran over and grabbed him by the arm. "Come on!"

"Oh my God I feel so sick…" Mrs. Kensington whined before throwing up some more.

"Me too…" Mr. Kensington moaned before throwing up again.

"RON!" Mallory shouted.

"I told you this damn party was a bad idea!" Ron said as he ran out the door with the others.

"He's not wrong," Lana groaned.

"Shut up!" Mallory snapped. "Oscar Meyer Whiner!"

The following day back at the Figgis Agency…

"I tell ya," Pam drank some beer in the bullpen talking to the rest of the Figgis Agency. "That Mrs. Goldberg knows how to throw one hell of a shindig!"

"Yeah it was a nice party," Ray admitted. "Until the cops came to get our statements."

"And Cheryl decided to have fun with the lit candles," Krieger added. "Good thing there was a fire extinguisher handy. The blaze wasn't that big."

"That's not the fire I'm worried about," Lana sighed as she looked over to a table nearby. Mallory was there drinking a glass and had a bottle of scotch in front of her. As well as several papers.

"You mean when Ms. Archer finally snaps and burns this place to the ground?" Pam asked. "Yeah I saw where you were going with that."

"All right here are all the potential lawsuits leveled against you," Cyril was next to her pointing out all the papers. "On the plus side I'm pretty sure I can get the attempted murder charges dropped. Since it turned out the crab puffs were also tainted and Mr. Kensington also ate those. And because of that the catering company won't sue us. In fact, they offered us a free meal on the house."

"Just what we need," Mallory groaned. "A free case of botulism."

"Just don't eat the crab puffs," Pam waved. "Even I didn't eat those."

"At least Mr. Kensington didn't die," Cyril added. "Or any of the caterers."

"Not yet," Mallory grumbled as she poured herself another drink.

"And since nobody can prove that you were the one who chopped down Mrs. Kensington's tree I think I can get that thrown out," Cyril went on. "The one thing that might worry me is this letter from the Better Business Bureau investigating your share selling scam. Since you did promise them a business opportunity in writing."

"Really should not have put that on the invitations," Pam added.

"But since I am going to call them and tell them that since I'm the major affected party and not pressing charges I'm pretty sure I can talk them down to a small fine," Cyril added. "Or just a warning."

"Swell…" Mallory grumbled as she took another drink.

"We may still have to pay a small fine to the FDA but since there's no real proof where you got the tainted meat," Cyril coughed. "I'm sure it will be forgotten quickly. Again, the crab puff thing sort of throws the caterers under suspicion."

"Fine," Mallory sighed as she took another drink. Then she took out a bottle of pills from her purse.

"This lawsuit against you from the Kensingtons could be tricky," Cyril said. "But if you promise to pay for the ambulance and their hospital expenses I'm sure we can settle out of court."

"Fine…" Mallory took another drink. Took some pills and swallowed them down.

"Your neighborhood association has leveled a few more complaints against you," Cyril sighed. "As well as a petition. Asking you to never throw another party at your house again. By the way Ron's name is also on this petition."

"It was his idea," Cheryl giggled.

"Boy Ms. Archer," Pam remarked. "If your reputation was mud before it's definitely a big steaming pile of shit now."

"I think we've gone beyond shit," Ray said. "I think now we're in the territory of decomposed matter in the sewer."

"Which of course is made up of more than shit," Krieger added. "Like skin tags, hair, garbage…"

"And you're also banned from any parties at all in your neighborhood," Cyril added. "On the down side you are going to own a ton of money in fines to your neighborhood association. Ms. Archer? Ms. Archer?"

Mallory had a glassy look in her eyes as she took another drink. "Cyril I'm going to step out of the office for a bit. Hold my calls." She then passed out on the desk.

"What do you think was in those pills?" Lana blinked.

"Whatever it is," Ray remarked. "I want that prescription."


End file.
